Episode 01a, VS75 Wrongs Not Forgotten
by Voyager Season 7.5
Summary: The first episode of Voyager's Season 7.5. A group of writer's take on how Voyager's last season and beyond should have gone.


NEW VOY Wrongs Not Forgotten [PG-13] (Virtual Season 7.5 #1)

Title: Wrongs Not Forgotten

Author: Penny Proctor

Contact: season7_

Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5

Part: 1/6

Rating: K/M

Codes: AU all

The Cardassians have long memories. And Cardassians lost in the Delta Quadrant with a mixed crew of misfits

Chakotay studied the two crewmen who stood before him. Jack O'Connell and Hugh Murphy looked distinctly uncomfortable, which was not surprising considering that they had no idea why the First Officer had asked to see them. "Uh," O'Connell began hesitantly, "if this has to do with the Jeffries Tube-" he stopped abruptly as Murphy stepped on his foot.

With some effort, Chakotay stifled a smile. The two friends had apparently decided to vie for the title of Ship's Rake when Tom Paris settled down, and recently they had paired up with Jenny and Megan Delaney. If the grapevine was accurate, the mysterious damage in Jeffries tube 36-A had nothing to do with the abortive, mind-controlled mutiny of a few months earlier.

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to let them worry just a little, Chakotay said nothing at first. The truth was, their romantic adventures had nothing to do with why he wanted to speak with them. When he and others from his former crew had been recovered from Teero's mind control, he had been reminded how disparate the Maquis and Starfleet crews had been at first, and how successfully they had melded into a single crew. That in turn made him realize that there was another faction on board that he had not paid enough attention to.

When the five survivors of the Equinox had come aboard, he had deliberately assigned each one quarters - first with a Starfleet crewman, and then nine months later he had moved each to share space with a former Maquis. He had hoped they would be able to integrate into Voyager more quickly that way. Gilmore seemed to have done all right with Jor and Powell, and Dalby and Gennaro had no complaints about Lessing. The others, though, seemed to be as isolated as ever. O'Connell and Murphy had each spent time rooming with someone else, and he was the one Chakotay wanted to discuss.

"Tell me," he finally said, "What's the problem with Jim Morrow?"

O'Connell and Murphy looked at each other, then Murphy shrugged. "It's hard to say, sir," he said. "He pretty much keeps to himself."

"I've noticed." That, in fact, was the entire reason for this interview. Chakotay was troubled by the fact that after a year and a half, the Equinox survivors still were not completely trusted by their crewmates. They did their jobs, but little else. "He wasn't at Neelix's potluck last night. Why?"

"He said he wasn't up for it." Jack O'Connell frowned. "He's just not a social type, Commander."

Chakotay frowned. According to the records they had received from Starfleet, Morrow had been outgoing and extremely social while at the Academy. "He must have friends. Who does he eat with? Sofin, Tassoni? What about holodeck time?"

"I don't really know," O'Connell said, and he didn't sound interested.

"You've lived with the man for the last nine months. You must have some idea."

Murphy straightened. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"The man's a loner. He doesn't talk to us unless we talk to him, and even then it's barely more than a sentence or two. He doesn't want to have anything to do with us."

"The fact is," O'Connell added, "He doesn't trust us and we don't trust him. It's that simple."

"But why?" Chakotay gave him a hard look. "Has he done something?"

O'Connell shook his head. "No. But he tried to kill us all. He didn't think twice about leaving us at the mercy of those murdering aliens. There are some things you don't forget easily."

They say time heals all wounds, Chakotay thought. Perhaps we just need more time. "Do me a favor. Make an effort with him. He was following his captain and got led astray. It was a mistake, but we all make mistakes. If we've learned anything on this ship, it's that everyone deserves another chance."

O'Connell's face settled into a frown. "It's not the same, Chakotay. The Maquis were fighting for something important."

"Let's not start talking about the quality of our mistakes." He managed a smile. "Just try, all right?"

Murphy shot a warning look at his friend and nodded. "Aye, sir."

Before O'Connell acknowledged the order, the comm system interrupted. "Janeway to Chakotay."

"Yes, Captain?"

"I need you on the bridge, Commander."

Her voice sounded strained, a signal that something was going on but she didn't want to talk about it over the comm system. He rose. "On my way." "Dismissed. And Jack, try. Morrow's not a bad guy."

If Kathryn's tone of voice hadn't warned him, he would have realized something was wrong the moment he stepped on the bridge. Instead of her usual relaxed posture, Kathryn sat erect and tense in the Captain's chair, and she caught his eye as soon as the 'lift doors opened. The usual buzz of conversation was missing; the only sound was that the ambient hum of the engines and the occasional aural cue from the computer.

He took his seat and turned to Kathryn. "What's happening?"

"We're getting a signal of some kind," she said, leaning toward him. "It may be a distress signal."

Harry Kim looked up from his console. "I've got it, Captain. It's definitely a distress call. They say –" he broke off, looking shocked. "They say they are on a Cardassian ship."

Stunned, Chakotay swiveled in his chair and stared at the Ops Officer. Cardassian? Here?

Act 1: The Signal

Kathryn Janeway looked as stunned as Chakotay felt. "Let's have it, Mr. Kim."

"I need to boost the gain, the signal's very weak." His brows knit together in concentration, and then he relaxed. "There."

The viewscreen came to life. Although some interference remained, the image was unmistakable. An elderly Cardassian spoke in a rasping voice.

"To any passing ships. We are the surviving crew of the Malik Ohn, a ship of the Cardassian Union. We are in immediate need of medical assistance and food supplies. Basic ship functions will fail in 48 hours. Our situation is desperate. Please respond."

Without thinking, Chakotay rose to his feet as a jumble of images raced through his mind: Seska, smiling as she betrayed him…Gul Evek demanding the surrender of the Liberty right before the Caretaker pulled them into the Delta quadrant… the glinn whose name he never knew, asking questions that had no answers… walking through the devastation of his village after it was destroyed.

The continued silence on the bridge meant he was not the only one unsettled by the message. After a moment, Kathryn spoke. "I want to know where that signal came from. I'll be in my ready room."

She left the bridge quickly, but no one else seemed capable of moving. Dozens of questioning eyes turned to Chakotay. "You heard the Captain," he said, trying to sort out his thoughts without revealing the turmoil he felt.

The first thing he focused on was that any contact with the Malik Ohn was likely to be hostile. Then he had to shake his head to clear his thinking. For a moment, he had been acting on the assumptions that guided him in the Maquis. Voyager had been in the Delta quadrant for almost seven years; he was no longer Maquis, and the old assumptions were invalid.

He just finished the weapons status report when Kathryn asked that he join her in the ready room. She was waiting at her desk, and turned her computer around to face him as he sat.

"The Malik Ohn." She stood and began pacing while he read the entry on the screen. "It's quite an extensive report, considering how little Starfleet Intelligence was been able to gather about Cardassian ships in the early years."

"It was at the First Nyakkan Conference," he read aloud. "And expected at the Second Conference but it never arrived."

"That's one of the reasons the Second Conference failed. The Cardassians suspected the Federation had captured or destroyed the ship, but keeping it secret. As a result, diplomatic overtures ended and we began our slow progression toward the first war."

He leaned back and looked at her in disbelief. "That was more than thirty years ago."

Janeway stopped mid-circle and nodded. "What if the Caretaker began searching for compatible species when he desiccated the Ocampan homeworld? Kes said that 500 generations of Ocampa had passed since then."

"A new generation every five years…" Chakotay let the thought trail off. The Caretaker could have been pulling ships to the Delta Quadrant for more than two thousand years.

She poured herself a cup of coffee. "All this time, I've been considering the effect of the Caretaker's action only on this ship and crew. Now I wonder…he may have changed the whole history of Federation-Cardassian relations." She gestured with the pot in hand, offering him a cup, but he shook his head. "My father was one of the Starfleet representatives at both conferences. He once told me that after the first, he had great hopes for a peaceful, if not friendly, relationship but after the second he became convinced that war was inevitable. Can you imagine how different it might have been if the Malik Ohn had reported as expected?"

Chakotay shook his head slowly. "Maybe the timing would have been different, but the outcome would have been the same. The Cardassians are too arrogant, too greedy for territory."

"They were." She sighed, and sat down again. "That doesn't seem the case now. According to the last datastream report, Cardassia Prime was nearly destroyed in the final assault of the War. It will be decades before the Union can even begin to think about expansion again. That threat is over."

"It will never be over."

"What?"

He looked up, startled and a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."

"But you did." She looked at him closely. "It doesn't sound like you."

"I'm sorry." He took a deep breath, and walked across the room to look out at the stars. "I thought I had put it behind me, but seeing that image on the viewscreen…it all came back. For a moment, I didn't see him at all. What I saw was my village, after the Cardassians finished with it."

He rarely thought about it any more, and never talked about it, but now he wanted her to understand. "When I walked through the wreckage, it was unrecognizable. The buildings were melted into the rock, and there was a layer of dust over everything. I remember, I looked down and saw my footprint, and I wondered if I had just walked through the ashes of my mother's body." He turned back to her. "There are some wrongs that can't be forgiven, or forgotten."

She studied him for a moment, then set down her cup and went to him. There was sympathy in her voice and in the touch of her hand on his arm. "I won't pretend that I know how you feel. But there has to be an end, Chakotay, or nothing will ever change."

It had been a long time since she touched him that way, and it felt good. It felt as natural as breathing and somehow right. He had almost forgotten how that simple touch felt.

"Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway. I have identified the location of the Cardassian ship."

"Good. Come to the briefing room to report." She looked at Chakotay. "Assemble the senior staff. Maybe it's a false alarm, and we can forget the whole thing."

Act 2: Debate

Seven ended any hope that the call was a hoax as soon as the staff gathered around the table. She moved to wall console and entered a command. "Long range sensors have found the source of the distress call. It is twenty light years away, in the center of the Corish Crescent."

The schematic showed a region of space marked by a line of star systems that formed an arc, reminiscent of a scimitar. A green light blinked at the apex of the arc, representing the ship. Paris shook his head. "It figures. Every ship we've run into for the past two months has warned us to steer clear of the Crescent."

"They claimed it's a haven for pirates and slavers," Chakotay added thoughtfully.

"The Cardassians are probably the pirates," B'Elanna muttered. Her arms were folded over her chest and she was practically quivering with anger, but she had clamped her jaw together tightly. Chakotay recognized that she was working hard at controlling herself.

"Unknown," Seven said in reply, "but this is the ship in question." She touched another control, and the screen rearranged itself to show the outline of a ship. Torres and Kim gasped in unison as they recognized the unmistakable silhouette of a Cardassian warship.

"It looks odd," Tom said, frowning.

"That's probably because it's out of date." Janeway reported on her discovery concerning the Malik Ohn. "I believe it is likely the ship has been in the Delta Quadrant for thirty years."

"That's very interesting, Captain," B'Elanna said, "but why do we care? These are Cardassians. Shouldn't we be getting ready for a fight?"

"The war is over, Lieutenant."

"Do you think they know that?" B'Elanna asked so pointedly that her tone bordered on insubordination. "Even thirty years ago, Cardassia was hostile to the Federation. That was the whole point of the Nyakkan peace conferences, remember?"

"We will be prepared to defend ourselves, if necessary. But we are not going to plan or provoke an attack." Kathryn's tone caused B'Elanna to lean back, silenced.

Chakotay had been thinking during Seven's presentation, and he thought he had an acceptable solution. He looked at Kathryn as he spoke. "Why do we have to respond at all? We've been warned of the dangers in the Corish Crescent. We can just continue on our way."

"I concur," Tuvok said, surprising Chakotay considerably. "We do not know what may face us in that region of space. The prudent thing is to continue on our present course."

Kathryn looked first at Tuvok, then at Chakotay. "The expedient thing. But not the right thing. I remind you, they have issued a distress call. It is one of the oldest traditions in Starfleet, going back to the sea-faring navies of Earth, that we respond to distress calls, even those of our enemy."

Paris looked at Janeway in disbelief. "Are you planning to help them, then?"

Kathryn's face was settling into the expression than meant her mind was made up and that further discussion was an exercise in futility. "The Cardassians are no longer our enemy. We will respond, and we will provide medical supplies and food, if needed."

"I can't believe it." Ignoring a look of warning from her husband, B'Elanna jumped to her feet. "We're talking about Cardassians. Have you forgotten what they did to us? To the colonies they destroyed?"

"Lieutenant!" Chakotay spoke firmly, making his meaning unambiguous. As much as he might sympathize with her reasoning, her tone was out of line.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, but she sat down. "I'm sorry, Captain. It's just that the idea of helping Cardassians is hard to take."

"I understand, B'Elanna." Janeway looked around the room. "Believe me, I have no love for them. I've been in battle against them, I've seen what they do to prisoners. But that ship has been in this quadrant for more than thirty years." She looked around the table, making certain that she had each officer's attention. "Its crew has no idea that the Federation and the Union were ever at war with one another, let alone know anything about the Maquis.

"And," she added, "think about what it might be like on this ship in another twenty-odd years. That could be us, some day, and a passing ship could mean survival."

For a moment, everyone sat in silence. Then Seven said, "The Cardassians are a devious species. We should not rely on their assertion of helplessness."

The Captain smiled. "And we won't. Tuvok, work with Seven. I want as much tactical information as we can get on that ship. Correlate the information in the database with long range sensor information. We won't let them know we're coming until we have a better idea of what kind of shape they are really in. Take us toward the Crescent, Mr. Paris, at warp 4. Dismissed."

Chakotay turned to follow the others out, but stopped at the sound of Kathryn's voice. "Chakotay. Stay a moment."

He turned and allowed the door to close for privacy. She remained seated, her expression troubled. "You told me once you found peace here on Voyager. What will happen to that peace if we let those people die?"

Wishing he had some other answer to give, he said truthfully, "I don't know. But I don't know how I can help them and live with it, either."

Her face fell, and he knew he had disappointed her. The strange thing was, he had disappointed himself as well.

Act 3: Dissension

It was late when Chakotay finally went to his quarters. The crew had spent hours gleaning every possible fact about the Malik Ohn on the databases, both specific information and what was known generically about Cardassian ships of that era.

Tuvok and Seven compiled a detailed report on the ship's probable capabilities. If it came to a fight, Voyager should prevail. The weapons and propulsion systems of the older ship were no match for Voyager. The only area in which the Cardassian ship matched theirs was in its shield capacity. "It is a very efficient shield design," Seven noted in the report. "We should consider adapting our own to it."

Tuvok had added a notation as well. "We should not assume that the ship remains as it was initially constructed. After thirty years in the Delta quadrant, it is logical to assume that modifications have been made and that local technologies adapted for use. Despite the apparent advantage held by Voyager, contact should be made with the assumption that the Malik Ohn matches or exceeds our own tactical specifications."

This did nothing to make Chakotay feel any better about Kathryn's plan.

The senior staff remained on duty well beyond their normal shift, assuring that the ship was ready for either battle or trade. Neelix and the Doctor created an inventory of available foodstuffs and medical supplies, while B'Elanna and Tuvok ran repeated diagnostics and drills to be certain that both systems and people were prepared.

Kathryn had left the bridge to him during all of this; she was continuing her own research in her ready room. At 1900 he went in to report and found her at her desk.

"B'Elanna reports that all systems are optimal and Tuvok is satisfied with the battle drills," he told her. "I've told Alpha shift to stand down."

She nodded. "Good. Now, take a look at this." She swiveled the monitor towards him, and came to stand behind him as he sat.

The screen showed a Starfleet officer wearing a dress uniform in a style that had been replaced before Chakotay was a first-year cadet. Even the rank insignia had been changed, but he was fairly certain that the officer was a captain. He stood next to a Cardassian whose expression seemed inappropriately smug for the setting.

"That's a press release from the First Nyakkan Conference."

"Is that your father?"

"Yes." She sounded almost wistful. "He looks so young there."

Chakotay looked closely. The man in the picture was definitely not young, but neither was he elderly. His hair was a rusty brown, except for a distinguished dusting of silver at the sideburns and temples, and the only lines on his face were grooves in his forehead, probably caused by years of eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Edward Janeway was not smiling, and he had the look of someone who rarely indulged in such frivolity. His features were hawk-like, creating the impression of someone who demanded a great deal from himself and those around him.

The only physical resemblance to Kathryn, he thought, was in the bearing, the finely chiseled bones of the face, and in the eyes. The infamous Death Stare was apparently hereditary.

Kathryn pointed to the Cardassian. "Recognize him? That's Enabran Tain."

He was so surprised his mouth dropped. "But – he was the head of the Obsidian Order."

"Uh-huh. Although it would be a few more years before he took over. Not that the Federation knew what the Obsidian Order was at that time. And I guarantee you, the Cardassians didn't explain it to our delegates. Tain was introduced as the designated liaison to the Federation contingent." She smiled and put one hand on his shoulder. "And I can tell you something else. My father didn't like him. I can tell by the way he's standing and the look in his eyes."

He almost smiled. "Yes, I recognize it."

She shot him a look, but let it pass. "I was hoping to find some record of Gul Datik, but there's nothing. Either he wasn't on the Malik Ohn at the time, or he had no official role at the conference."

"That's the way our luck seems to go in this quadrant." He looked at the image of Edward Janeway again. "You were what, seven years old?"

"Eight." Her eyes fixed on the monitor, but he had the feeling she was seeing something much farther away. "After this, he became obsessed by the Cardassians. He knew that if we couldn't be allies, they would be the greatest threat the Federation had faced since the Klingons. When the second conference failed, he was like a man possessed. He devoted himself to designing ships and weapons that could be used against them. We didn't see very much of him."

She stopped and broke away from him as if embarrassed. Perhaps she was; she did not often reveal so much of herself. He said quietly, "He was right. And the runabouts and the tricobalt grenades he developed were vital in the early skirmishes. Without them, the hostilities would have escalated into full-scale war."

"Thank you." Although she managed a rueful smile, her eyes were sad. "I have to remind myself of that from time to time. There was a price for it, you know, and my father wasn't the only one who paid it." Her face suddenly hardened. "There's been a question for years whether his death was an accident."

"I thought it was an accident during a test flight."

"It was a crash during a test flight. No one ever found the definitive cause for the malfunction that caused the systems failure." She looked away, and when she spoke again, her voice was flat. "There was speculation that it was sabotage, that the Cardassians had somehow managed to infiltrate the shipyards and plant a device of some kind. The crash certainly served their purposes; the runabout design was held back for nearly a year while they tried to find the flaw, and Edward Janeway was dead."

He knew that crash still haunted her; she had first told him about it on New Earth and talked about it again when she encountered the alien impersonating her father. Even after so many years, she still suffered survivor guilt because she was the only one who walked away from the disaster alive. "You don't think anyone on the Malik Ohn will know about that, do you? The ship disappeared years before."

When she turned back to him, she had a rueful smile. "You're right. For a wild moment, I was thinking that someone might. They were there. They knew Enabran Tain. But the timing's off." Then she shook her head, as if clearing her thoughts. "So. Are we ready to make contact?"

"Yes. As ready as we can be, without more data."

"And you still don't approve."

He took a deep breath. "You don't need my approval. You need my support, and you have that."

"I know." She looked at him sadly. "Thank you, Commander. That will be all."

He stood. "Kathryn – "

"Yes?"

"I don't know what's right any more." He didn't wait for her reaction, but left quickly.

He retreated to his quarters, eager – anxious, even – to ease the turmoil in his spirit before the next day. No sooner had he begun to clear his mind for meditation when the comm unit beeped.

"Torres to Chakotay."

"What is it, B'Elanna?"

Her voice was hushed. "You better come to the mess hall," was all she said.

What he saw when he arrived caused his heart to sink. Many of his former crew were gathered at one end of the mess hall, talking loudly. Carlson and Henley, he noted, seemed to be the center of the group. They both turned as he approached. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Why are you letting her do this?" Carlson's face was red with anger.

"Nobody 'lets' the Captain do anything," Chakotay said. "It's her ship, and it's her call. You don't have to like it, Carlson."

"But why?" Henley asked. There was undisguised pain in her voice. "Has she forgotten that they massacred the Maquis? Why would she help them?"

"She hasn't forgotten. But this isn't about them. She's doing this for us."

Someone in the group snorted. "Yeah, right."

"I mean it." Chakotay looked around the group. "This is about who we are and what we stand for. Don't we want to be better than the Cardassians?" As he spoke the words, he felt the first flicker of conviction.

"And what about justice, Chakotay?" Jackson, standing to the left, asked bitterly. "Where's the justice for Setlik III? Where's the justice for your own world, for god's sake?"

The question stopped him cold. It was one he had been wrestling with all day, and he still did not have a good answer. He tried a different approach. "If the only thing the Captain valued was justice, I would have spent the past seven years in the brig instead of the bridge."

Then B'Elanna shouldered her way through to stand beside him. She waited until every one was silent. "I don't like it, but Chakotay's right – if we don't help them, we're no better than they are. Justice for the Cardassians will have to wait for someone who's a whole lot wiser than me – than all of us."

Carlson shook his head. "That's not enough, B'Elanna."

"Don't be an ass," a new voice said. Everyone turned to see Jim Morrow sitting by himself across the room, and the surprise of his participation in a group conversation stunned everyone into silence.

Morrow stood. "You want revenge, but these people didn't do anything to you. If you want to help them die just because they're Cardassians, then you're just the same as the ones who destroyed Setlik III just because it was a Federation colony."

A sneer twisted Carlson's face. "Oh, great. We're being lectured by someone who would have killed us to save his own skin."

"Exactly," Morrow said quietly. "I forgot that how I lived was more important than just living." Then he turned and walked out.

"He's right." Tabor, standing a little off to one side, spoke quietly but his voice carried in the sudden silence that had followed Morrow's exit. "Isn't that why we joined the Maquis?

Mariah Henley bit her lower lip. "Yes, but – to help them, after all they did –" She shook her head. "It's hard."

"It's wrong," Carlson insisted.

The tension had dissolved, Chakotay realized as he looked around; the danger had passed. Most of the anger had been channeled into serious thought and what remained could be handled. He clapped a hand on Carlson's shoulder. "Only time will tell if you're right or not. Now, get some sleep. All of you. I want everyone sharp tomorrow."

The crowd dispersed in ones and twos. B'Elanna lingered, but did not speak until the others were gone. "You can't fool me, Chakotay. You don't like this any more than I do."

Alone with her, he allowed himself to relax. The muscles in his neck unclenched, and he ran a hand through his hair. "No. I don't."

"Mind control aside, we haven't had a real division between the 'Fleet crew and the Maquis crew in years." She shook her head. "This might do it, though. The crew's upset, the ship's at risk. The Cardassians aren't worth all this."

"Maybe not." But then the little seed of conviction he felt before returned. "But if we decide they're not, B'Elanna, how do we decide who is?" He left her there, and went to tell Tuvok what had just occurred.

Act 4: Encounter

Voyager found the Malik Ohn as expected in the heart of the Corish Crescent. It appeared dead in space, and listed slightly to port. Chakotay's stomach tightened as he looked at it.

"Open a channel, Mr. Kim," the Captain said, and at his nod began her message. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. We are responding to your distress call."

The same elderly Cardassian who had issued the plea answered to the Captain's hail. "Federation? From the Alpha quadrant?" the old man asked. "Were you brought here by the Caretaker, too? Or has technology advanced so quickly?"

This confirmed the crew's guess. "The Caretaker brought us here also," she said. "I would like to compare notes later, … I don't know your name."

"Forgive me. I am Gul Datik. Captain, we are in great need."

"We can share foodstuffs and medicines," she said, "but that's all. Anything more would compromise our own survival."

"Please reconsider, Captain," Datik said, in a tone as close to begging as Chakotay had ever heard from a Cardassian. "Your Alpha quadrant technology will be more compatible with ours than anything we are likely to find in this alien space. We have already lost weapons and warp drive. My engineers tell me we will lose life support in 48 hours."

"I'm sorry," Janeway said firmly. "You have our best offer."

Datik lowered his head. "And we accept. Forgive me, Captain Janeway, if I seem ungrateful. This is a trying time."

"I understand. Transmit the coordinates to your cargo bay, we'll beam the supplies over."

"Thank you. Our transporters are off line to conserve power," he said, then added, "Captain, are you by any chance related to my friend Edward Janeway?"

Heads snapped up all over the bridge, and Chakotay looked closely at the Captain as she replied. "How did you know him?"

"We met at the Nyakkan conference. My ship transported the Cardassian delegation. Edward and I spent a great deal of time together." Datik smiled at her. "He told me of his daughters. Are you the scholar or the hellion?"

She sucked in her breath, and Chakotay knew that the Cardassian had landed a bull's-eye. "The scholar," she replied, looking dumbstruck.

"Do I infer from your statement that Edward is dead?"

"Yes. For nearly twenty years."

Datik sighed. "My sympathies. He was the only human I ever knew. We had some… interesting … times together. Then he smiled. "Captain, perhaps we could meet face to face? I would like to thank you for your generosity by sharing some stories about your father."

Chakotay watched her face as she considered this proposal. As he studied her, noted the calculation in the dark blue eyes, he could almost hear her thinking, what does he know? What can he tell me?

He knew what she was going to say before she said it, and he knew it would put him in an untenable position. Whatever his personal feelings about this contact, it was his responsibility to protect the Captain. He had no choice but to object if she proposed to leave the ship. The alternative, to bring him on board, was unwise given the current mood of the crew and he would have to object to that as well.

But he had to find a way to do it so that she would believe he was acting from objectivity, not antipathy for the Cardassians. "Captain," he said quietly, "may I remind you of Tactical Directive 36?"

She glared at him. The Directive he invoked prohibited her from leaving the ship alone. No matter how badly she wanted information about her father, he doubted she would take anyone else over to a Cardassian ship.

"Thank you, Commander." Her voice was as cold as her glare. No captain appreciated being hemmed in, and Kathryn never bothered to conceal her frustration when she knew she had to concede a point. "I won't be able to come to your ship, Gul Datik," she said, "But perhaps you would be willing to come aboard Voyager. I would like to speak with you."

"Captain!" Tuvok protested.

With a slashing gesture, she cut him off. "We will beam you over. For security reasons I will meet with you, and only you. I will be accompanied by security guards. If those terms are acceptable, we can meet in my transporter room in five minutes."

The old Gul smiled. "Caution is a worthy attribute in this quadrant, Captain. I look forward to meeting with you."

As soon as the screen went dark, Chakotay touched her arm. Speaking quietly, so that only she could hear, he said, "Captain, please reconsider. I – I've got a bad feeling about this."

She was still annoyed with him; he could tell from the stiffness in her body. But her voice was gentle. "Tuvok and another security guard will accompany me. I need you to stay on the bridge. If there is even a hint of trouble, I want you to get the ship out of here at top speed. Understood?"

For a long few seconds, Chakotay considered making a formal objection, then decided against it. She had mandated a reasonable security precaution, and so far the Malik Ohn had given them no reason to suspect hostility. "Understood."

Satisfied, she rubbed her hand lightly on his arm as if to reassure him. "We have to open a dialogue, Chakotay. If we are ever going to learn to live with them peacefully, we have to start talking to them."

As soon as she cleared the bridge, he went to the Tactical station and opened a security camera on the transporter room, determined to keep an eye on the situation. Mulcahey was on duty when Janeway entered, flanked by Tuvok and Ayala, each with phaser in hand. The familiar shimmer began, and in seconds, Gul Datik stood on the transporter pad.

He was not as decrepit in person as he was on the viewscreen. Instead of being emaciated and hunched, he stood erect and wiry. His eyes lit when they fell on Janeway. "Ah, Captain," he said, stepping down from the pad and offering her his hand. "It is a pleasure."

She stepped forward to shake the proffered hand. He grasped it and pulled her against his body, slapping his commbadge and shouting "Now!"

They both disappeared in the alien shimmer of a Cardassian transporter.

"Get her back!" Tuvok shouted at Mulcahey, who was frantically manipulating the controls.

"I can't," he said. "They've raised shields."

Tuvok hit his commbadge. "Bridge," he said grimly. "They've taken the Captain."

"I know."

Chakotay's response was grim. Almost the instant that the transporter took effect, the Cardassian ship had hailed them. The viewscreen now showed the bridge of the Malik Ohn. Datik held Janeway with one hand; the other pointed a phaser at her head.

He looked at the display on the tactical station. The Cardassian ship had suddenly come to life, with full weapons, shields, and propulsion capabilities. It had all been a ruse – a trap that they had fallen into neatly.

Anger building in his chest, Chakotay stepped back down to the command deck, his eyes fixed on Janeway. She looked back at him with no outward sign of fear.

Chakotay spoke first. "I see your ship has made a miraculous recovery."

Datik smiled. It had wolfish aspect that was all the more chilling in a reptilian face. "A small deception on our part. Now, if you if you want your Captain back, you have two minutes to provide me with the weapons and engineering materials on the list we are transmitting. Anything less, and she dies. If you fire on us, she dies. If you try a rescue attempt, she dies. Do we have a deal?"

"No. Send her back, and we'll talk." Chakotay forced himself to speak calmly. "We don't bargain for hostages. Let her go, and we'll negotiate. Obviously we didn't understand the urgency of your needs."

Datik laughed without mirth. "I don't think so. You have less than two minutes, Starfleet officer. Then she dies."

Chakotay looked across space at his captain. His closest friend. The woman who had changed his life. She was staring at him with an unwavering gaze, and he knew exactly what she expected him to do. Exactly.

Even so, he hesitated.

"Commander," was all she said, and Datik pressed the phaser even closer.

He nodded once in reply, but he had never done anything more difficult in his life. "Mr. Paris." His voice was harsh and he did not look away from Kathryn. "Take us out of here. Warp Eight."

Tom took a deep breath. "Aye, sir."

Voyager turned and sped away.

-To Be Continued -


End file.
